The Art of Faith Exploring Sacred ImagesScroll down to read the blog.

Byzantine art exerted a profound and continuing influence on the art of the West . . . transmitted first by artists and then later by handbooks.—Marilyn Stokstad In sixth-century Palestinian churches, the clergy sometimes placed a reliquary—a stone box for holy objects—beneath the altar. The reliquary looked like a small sarcophagus (stone coffin) with two to four compartments. The reliquary housed bits of martyrs’ bones, sometimes encased in smaller, precious-metal boxes. The center of the lid contained a funnel-shaped hole, with another one in the reliquary’s side. A goblet stood beneath the side hole. Worshipers poured oil into the top hole and recaptured it in the goblet. They considered the oil sanctified because it touched the sacred relics, and hoped the freshly produced “holy oil” would protect them as they ventured back into everyday life. Although this Palestinian ritual may seem strange today, it capsulated a predominant Byzantine belief. Eastern Christians especially honored saints and martyrs, and considered their bones and artifacts sacred. They believed touching or owning a relic—the remains of something or someone sacred—transmitted healing and holiness. Ancient Christians traveled far to visit relics safeguarded in beautiful reliquaries, and churches collected these sacred remains as signs of protection and prestige. As trade increased, more people traveled and Christianity proliferated, Eastern art and practices influenced Western Christians. Byzantine artists especially mastered painting icons, carving ivory, shaping metal, and designing mosaics. When artists passed along information about style and technique, tourists and merchants carried back works of art, or warriors carted home war booty, East and West shared their creativity. Artisans and craftspeople experimented, improved existing techniques, and introduced new stylistic approaches. Even when the Church split over theological differences, declaring distinct and bitter differences between the East and West, the artistic influences lingered and mingled. For some projects the crossover was deliberate and planned. In the eleventh century Abbott Desiderius organized the decoration for the new abbey church of Montecassino in southern Italy. Sometime after 1066 he sent envoys to Constantinople “to hire artists who were experts in the art of laying mosaics and pavements.” The monk Leo of Ostia recorded, “The degree of perfection which was attained in these arts by the masters Desiderius had hired can be seen in their works.” Desiderius also arranged for the Byzantine master artists to teach his young Italian monks the art of mosaics. Italian artists revived the ancient art practiced by their ancestors. Eventually, an appreciation for Eastern art spread. The abbott’s decisions blessed the world with beauty.

Read more about Byzantine artists in The Art of Faith: A Guide to Understanding Christian Images by Judith Couchman. Available at amazon.com and paracletepress.com.

One of the earliest forms of Christian art wasn’t a painting, a sculpture, or even a catacomb fresco. It was a patch of graffiti on plaster, discovered in the Poedagogium on Rome’s Palatine Hill and dated to around 200 A.D. Imperial teachers used the Poedagogium building to educate the emperor’s staff, and perhaps an idle student etched the crude artwork. The drawing depicted a man with an ass’s head, nailed to a cross. Viewed from behind, the crucified man turned to the left and looked down at a youth with a raised arm. An inscription underneath the cross figure claimed in Greek, “Alexamenos worships his god.”

Art historians disagree whether the scrawled words should be interpreted as a Christian’s profession of faith or a pagan’s scorn. On the one hand, Jesus rode on an ass, so this animal became an important symbol for early Christians. From this perspective, some suggest drawing the crucified Christ with a donkey’s head paid homage to a hailed Savior. On the other hand, most observers recognized the inscription as a taunt from someone who mis- understood the new religion. In early Christianity, a rumor circulated Rome that Christians worshiped the head of an ass.

What was the true meaning? Only the graffiti artist knew for sure.

During the same era, pagans, Jews, and early Christians carved deep recesses in the soft tufa rock shaping the outskirts of Rome. From the third to fifth centuries, survivors often painted these catacomb walls with images that represented the deceased, and images of a person in prayer, the orans (Latin for “praying”), decorated several catacombs. The orans figure populated Late Antiquity, usually depicted as a standing, veiled woman with her hands outstretched and gazing toward heaven. It’s not always clear, however, whether an orans figure represented a pagan, Jewish, or Christian worshiper. Each religious group used this stance as a prayer posture.

Old Testament Jews spread their hands in prayer. From the desert of Judah, David prayed, “I will praise you as long as I live, and in your name I will lift up my hands” (Ps. 63:4). When a pagan orans lifted up her hands, she expressed “the affectionate respect due to the state, to a ruler, to the family, or to God.” Because early Christians were Jewish, they naturally practiced this stance. The apostle Paul advised the earliest Christians: “I want men everywhere to lift up holy hands in prayer, without anger or disputing” (1 Tim. 2:8, NIV 1984), and early church literature recorded the widespread practice of this prayer position. Consequently, the famous orans in the Catacomb of Priscilla in Rome doesn’t own a clear interpretation of her origin or beliefs. As much as art historians argue one interpretation or the other, nobody knows for sure.

Like the Palatine graffiti and the catacomb orans, some of the earliest years of Christianity and its art linger in ambiguity. Even more mysterious, it doesn’t appear early Christians produced art for two centuries of the faith. As far as we know, with a few exceptions of signs and symbols, Christian art didn’t appear until the early third century. Nobody knows the exact reason for this omission, and at any moment a new archaeological discovery could prove this assumption wrong.

Just as we can’t precisely pinpoint why Christian art didn’t exist in the earliest years of Christianity, we don’t know exactly why it appeared around 200 A.D. But when paintings from this growing religion emerged from underground Roman catacombs, Christian art never turned up absent again. Some people feel uncomfortable that early Christian art sometimes shared images with other religions. They think this either proves Christianity as a “borrowed religion” or taints its purity. What do you think?

According to some Christian traditions, the first-century King Abgar of Edessa in Mesopotamia suffered from a disease and sent his servant to return with the famous Miracle Worker or at least a painting of him. Elbowed out by crowds around Jesus, the messenger scrambled up a tree and began drawing the Healer’s face on a cloth. Soon Jesus noticed him and reached up for the linen handkerchief (mandylion). Jesus pressed the cloth against his face and handed it back to the astonished messenger. The messenger hurried the mandylion with the impression of Christ’s face to his king, and Abgar recovered.Like most word-of-mouth stories, details about the Abgar-Jesus connection varied through the ages. The fourth-century historian Eusebius recorded that the king and the Healer communicated through letters, and after the Resurrection, the apostle Thaddeus visited Abgar and laid healing hands on him. Yet most versions of the tale focused on the Savior’s face, believing in the miraculous so generations could gaze upon his countenance.In another story about a mystical cloth, Jesus imprinted his face on a woman’s veil. During the Lord’s excruciating struggle toward Golgotha, a resident of Jerusalem named Veronica offered him a cloth to wipe his brow. When Christ handed the fabric back to her, it reflected his face. Veronica took the cloth to Rome where Christains long venerated its image. A pier in Saint Peter’s Basilica honors the veil, and some scholars think the Mandylion of Edessa and the Veil of Veronica form versions of the same story.Perhaps this was a catalyst for Christian art: wanting to see Christ’s face.Whether we believe these ancient “face stories” as actual or legendary, they highlight the desire to visually witness the sacred. Consequently, early Christian artists painted images of Jesus to help people accept, follow, and celebrate their newfound beliefs. They also illustrated signs, symbols, saints, biblical stories, liturgical objects, and church furnishings to pass along their spiritual perspective and heritage. Still, they never strayed far from Christ’s face.If we miss someone, we might say, “I want to see his face.” Gazing at a person’s face, we discern the true personality with thoughts, feelings, and intentions toward us. The face fosters relationships.Early on, Christian artists grasped the power of a face. Through images, countless Christians found hope and courage, faith and absolution in the Lord’s face. They sought him as Friend, Healer, and Savior. Artists inspired believers to endure until they actually met Christ in glory, face to face. They still do today.

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Blog Author

Judith Couchman is an author, speaker, and college art-history instructor. Her recent book release is The Art of Faith: A Guide to Understanding Christian Images (Paraclete Press). Scroll down to view the book cover and video trailer.

A Sampling of Books by Judith Couchman

The Art of Faith: A Guide to Understanding Christian Images by Judith Couchman. Click on the photo to purchase the book through Paraclete Press.

The Mystery of the Cross by Judith Couchman. Inspirational readings about images of Christ's cross and how early believers used and respected this sign. Click on the photo to purchase from InterVarsity Press.